


rough reverence (my favorite kind of worship)

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Sweat, ball worship, facesitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 16:06:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7721158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say a man's home is his castle—and while this Overwatch outpost base wasn't technically where he lived, Jack Morrison felt like a king all the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rough reverence (my favorite kind of worship)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cyberratting](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cyberratting).



They say a man's home is his castle—and while this Overwatch outpost base wasn't technically where he lived, Jack Morrison felt like a king all the same.

He sits on one of the thinly-padded bunks he'd hated in boot camp, reclined back with his pants jerked down just enough to allow his half-hard, thick cock and heavy balls to hang free. He's not had a chance to shower since he got here and he knows that this weather is unforgiving, can feel the sweat rolling down the junction of his legs, feel the itch of it drying over his skin. He knows he's got to smell by now.

But that's what Gabriel is here for.

Gabriel Reyes—sitting on his knees by the door where Jack had told him to stay, stripped naked so Jack can enjoy the sight of his sweat-slick body, the metallic gleam of piercings against his bronzed skin. His head is down, hands tied behind his back with one of his own leather belts, and his flushed shoulders tremble slightly under the strain; his hips occasionally stutter in needy little half-thrusts, his cock swollen and weepy as it stabs at the open air, body coiled tight as a spring. Jack knows the source of his tension, and he smiles to remember the thick, vibrating plug he'd forced into Gabriel minutes earlier, pleased to see it wrecking the man as well as he'd hoped.

But Gabriel's had plenty of fun so far, little cockslut that he is, and all Jack's gotten to do is watch. So he decides to get things moving.

“Come here, Reyes,” he calls, voice as sharp and commanding as he keeps it on the battlefield, his signature Commander Voice—and he doesn't miss the way Gabriel shudders as he's addressed, his cock giving a hopeful twitch, the flushed head already starting to leak. The filthy desperation of it makes Jack grin as he watches Gabriel hobble over to him on his knees, and he tries to memorize the sway of those wide hips and the way the thick thighs flex for future reference.

He thinks that on another day he'd like to haul Gabriel up and bury himself between those muscular legs, feast on his sweet hole and take Gabriel apart with nothing but his mouth and tongue; but today he has a singular intent, a desire coiling hot and insistent in his gut, and he knows it isn't anywhere near as kind.

It's almost cruel, what he has planned, but this is his base, his rules—and his obedient little pet, teased stupid by the vibrating toy jammed into his greedy little hole and drunk on submission, cock hanging fat and flushed between his legs as he finally gets close enough to settle between the easy spread of Jack's thighs.

“I want you to lick me clean.” Jack's hands settle in thick dark curls, and he pulls Gabriel's head forward, forcing him closer and down; Gabriel whines quietly as his face is pressed up against the sweat-drenched, humid skin of Jack's inner thigh, nose wrinkling slightly at the musky scent that threatens to overwhelm him, make him dizzy. “Get to work. I don't have all day.”

Gabe hesitates for a few seconds—maybe trying to work himself up for it, or planning where best to start—but Jack, his impatience and lust, will have none of it. He mashes Gabe's head forward, using the hold in his hair to smear Gabe's face around his groin, over the rock hard meat of his cock and the low-hanging swell of his balls, groaning when he feels the warm slick of Gabe's tongue against his moist skin.

“There you go—lick my balls, Gabe,” Jack growls, voice ragged already—there's just something so intoxicating, so _addicting_ , about holding down someone as powerful as Gabriel Reyes and watching him lave and worship over such an intimate piece of anatomy, twicefold considering the condition it's currently in. “Do you like it, little whore? You like licking my sweaty balls? Like feeling them rubbing on your face?”

He doesn't bother to wait for Gabe's answer—between Gabe's frantic little whimpers and the urgency he works with, Jack knows what it is already. He lets the other man continue to press suckling little kisses and soft licks against the tender skin between his legs for a while longer, mesmerized by the pink of Gabe's lips against the swollen purple of his cockhead, the way Jack's balls drape over Gabe's nose when his tongue snakes down to tease against his sweaty taint; and when he kicks Gabe away it's with a growl that sounds feral, quickly sliding off the bed to push Gabe onto his back and climb up him.

“Close your eyes,” Jack snaps, before sitting down and settling himself squarely over Gabe's face, moaning quietly at the way he can feel the other man's breathing hitch below him; Gabe obeys immediately, eyes squeezing shut and leaving him trapped in a dark world with its center being _Jack fucking Morrison_ and the ripe scent of his balls laid heavy and warm across his cheek.

He could die here, he thinks, suffocate himself in the humid stretch of flesh between Jack's cock and his hole; he could die here and die _happy,_ and he moans with the thought as he prods his tongue gently up the cleft of Jack's ass, probing for what he wants—

“No.” Jack's voice rumbles above him, one mighty hand twisting cruelly into dark curls, and Gabe cries out against the slick skin of Jack's taint, his voice muffled. He trembles with equal parts confusion and hurt as Jack continues, “I didn't say you got the privilege of eating my ass, did I? Your only job here today is to _clean my fucking balls.”_

It's said with such conviction, such definition, that Gabe can't help his shudder; Jack reaches down to lovingly take a handful of his heavy sack, and starts to rub it over Gabe's cheek and lips, tipping his head back with a long, pleased sigh as he feels Gabe's tongue wander out to help. “Oh, yes...fucking lick my balls, Reyes, you whore...you fat-assed _slut_...you like it like this? When I use you like this, like the filthy cumrag you are?”

Gabe bites back a whimper and screws his eyes shut tighter, nodding against Jack's taint, the loose skin of Jack's sack shifting with the motion; Jack crows with laughter above him, a noise mighty and mocking, and Gabe almost blows his load right then and there at the ringing sound of it.

Instead he arches up toward Jack needily, his tongue lapping wet against whatever moist skin he can reach, and tries to hang on for the rest of the ride.


End file.
